


Warmth of Another

by cadkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Injury, M/M, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Sprains, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 11:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9120763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: Dick reached to run a hand through his hair, letting his fingers sift through it as he listened to Damian's breathing evening out. His thoughts drifted over the past, over all the years when he'd woken up and found Damian tucked in next to him, shivering from something that most definitely hadn't been the cold. It had grown worse after Damian had come back. He'd woken up in the morning to Damian's strained little whimpers in his bed, to the kid having burrowed halfway under a pillow in the midst of nightmares he wouldn't talk about, and Dick hadalwayslet him stay.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadySokolov](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySokolov/gifts).



> For DickDamiSecretSanta (hosted by violetscythe)  
> When Damian was still young enough for it to be cute, he would sometimes sneak into Dick's bed to cuddle, and they would inevitably end up falling asleep in each other’s arms. Dick loves both cuddling and Damian, so he is totally fine with this. But then Damian starts to grow up... What happens next is up to you. ♡  
> No: Non-con, incest (f you want to make it romantic or sexual I'm fine with either as long as they don't view each other as brothers before that.)  
> Beta Readers: kate1zena  
> Song[s]: "I'll Keep Coming" by Low Roar

He hadn't been expecting it, hadn't really prepared himself to step into his apartment and _smell_ the blood on the air. It was rank, overpowering, and Dick held back the half-choked gag that wanted out, screwing up his face instead as he slipped off the windowsill and landed soundlessly on the plush carpeting of his living room floor. He tugged the window shut and slid his escrima free of his holsters, reaching to flip on the low-light vision in his mask.

Each step was achingly careful amongst the familiar pieces of furniture, around the single area of flooring in his hallway that tended to creak in the winter months. Somewhere in the distance sirens kicked on and Dick froze for a moment, letting the sound creep into the part of his senses he could ignore in favor of finding the hints his house had to offer. 

Moving again, he picked his way down the hallway, step-by-step until he settled against the wall beside his bedroom door. He could hear ragged breathing, the faint sound of someone on the verge of panic, and then the sound of eerie silence; the kind he knew because he _created_ it with his very presence. 

He primed himself for a fight, carefully slid into a half crouch, knowing an attacker would suspect he'd be against the wall, and then he heard a quiet, "G-Grayson?"

_Shit._

He flung himself out of the hallway and into the room, still on guard for anyone _else_. Finding no one, he let himself focus on Damian. His clothing was torn, street-clothes, hoodie ripped all the way down the side by a knife, the entire front of it blood-spattered, some of it still damp, only beginning to dry. The side of Damian's jaw held a rapidly blossoming bruise and he could see the way Damian was holding his arm probably meant pretty bad things for it.

Stowing his escrima away, he moved to crouch by Damian's side, reaching out for his hand, only to have Damian flinch away. His hand hovered in the air, questioning as he let the crease show between his brows, let Damian know he was concerned beyond measure.

Damian used his other arm, unzipped his hoodie and opened it. It fell away, revealing a bigger mess beneath. The knife had clearly dug into his side, blood wetting most of that side of the shirt, though there were obviously bandages on it now. The hoodie slid off one side and Dick hesitated, but reached to help him get it off his bad arm, avoiding actually touching Damian himself, only his clothing. 

Dropping it to the floor, he heard the solid _clunk_ and shot Damian a questioning look as he held out his hand, hoping Damian would give him his arm. Once he was allowed to hold his forearm, Dick realized it was Damian's wrist he was babying, took in the angry swelling around a welt that looked like he'd straight-up blocked a staff with his wrist alone.

"Five... no time, couldn't think... just _acted_." Damian sounded lost, perhaps more so than Dick had heard him sound in a long time. 

He gently started to explore the bones of his wrist and hand, listening for any hitches in Damian's breathing. "Why did they attack you?"

"I did not give them time to talk about it."

"Wrong kid to attack..." Dick shifted then, gesturing to Damian's bandage. "May I?"

Damian nodded and Dick fully knelt down, ripping the shirt more and pushing it out of the way. Peeling back the bandage, he took in the gash. It wasn't actually _that_ bad, had just bled a lot before Damian got it under control. He put the bandage back down and settled back on his heels, studying Damian. He sorted through the various deductions he could make, finally found the one that made the most sense for the time of night, Damian's state of dress, and the fact that he'd come _here_ instead. "On your way somewhere, got jumped... reacted like Robin, hurt someone a little _too_ much and the rest of them got lethal. Sound about right?"

Damian looked away and Dick watched as his Adam's apple bobbed. It was as much of an admission as anything else would have been. He stood and offered both of his hands to help Damian up, making Damian claw his way up his body before he was standing. He guided him toward the bathroom, left him at the sink as Damian started to strip, and moved to get him some clothing from his drawers.

Less than twenty minutes later, they had both changed and he'd eased some pain killers into Damian's system. They were settled on his couch and Damian was leaning against him, eyelids slowly growing heavier. 

Dick reached to run a hand through his hair, letting his fingers sift through it as he listened to Damian's breathing evening out. His thoughts drifted over the past, over all the years when he'd woken up and found Damian tucked in next to him, shivering from something that most definitely hadn't been the cold. It had grown worse after Damian had come back. He'd woken up in the morning to Damian's strained little whimpers in his bed, to the kid having burrowed halfway under a pillow in the midst of nightmares he wouldn't talk about, and Dick had _always_ let him stay.

But _now_? Damian was hardly a child anymore and while Dick wouldn't have usually thought twice about it, he wasn't so sure he should invite him back to his bedroom for the night. 

Damian shifted, pushing his bad wrist up between them as he turned and his head settled on Dick's chest, good hand reaching up to take a fistful of Dick's t-shirt. The smallest little sigh came from his lips and Dick lowered his head, pressed his nose against Damian's hair, taking in the scent and closing his eyes. Maybe... if they stayed out here... it would be okay. Perhaps it would be _acceptable_.

Closing his eyes, he slid a protective arm around Damian, careful to avoid pushing against anything that hurt, and settled in with the intent to stay the night _right here_. 

It wasn't even a few minutes after he finally drifted off that Damian woke him by standing up. He blinked blearily up at him, voice rough from the fact that he'd definitely been breathing through his mouth, perhaps snoring in the position he'd been in, and whispered, "You okay?"

Damian gave him a crooked little smile and held out his hand. "Come on. We're both tired."

Dick stared at the hand being held out to him, _felt_ his resolve crumbling as if it were somehow a wall in and of itself. Sighing, he pushed his hand into Damian's and pushed himself up from the couch, watching how Damian was still babying his other wrist, how he kept it to his side, and he made a mental note to make sure he had a scan done of it tomorrow in case something was broken deeper than he had been able to sort out.

He trailed after Damian, letting him lead the way until they were in the bedroom, the door shut and the bedside light extinguished. He heard the shift of bedsheets and then the squeak of the springs as Damian lay down. 

Dick hesitated and then pushed his sweat pants off, leaving him in boxers and his t-shirt. He'd never been good at sleeping under covers in layers, always felt strangled and tended to wake up feeling as though he'd been through a nightmare because of it.

Slipping beneath the covers, he was careful to stay on his side of the bed, _knew_ it would be pointless because in his sleep he was bound to gravitate toward anything _warm_ and Damian ran hotter than anyone he knew. Even now, wounded, he was definitely giving off enough heat for Dick to feel all the way over here. He tugged the covers up under his chin and settled, closing his eyes.

The mattress dipped and the sound of Damian moving greeted his ears before Damian was tucked up against him, his arm winding awkwardly around Dick's in order to keep his wrist from hurting, his hurt side carefully away from the bed. 

He gave in faster than he would have thought possible, shifted to curl his arms protectively around him as he could remember doing a hundred times in the past, tugged him in against his chest and tucked him in under his chin, letting their legs tangle and settling into the warm press of another body against him. 

His heart beat a little faster because of it and he _knew_ Damian wasn't at a complete loss as to how he was affecting him, though he noted that he didn't pull away, didn't even shift uncomfortably, and that alone let Dick relax against him. 

Damian didn't bring it up and Dick knew he certainly wasn't about to. Honestly, he wasn't sure they ever would in that moment, but for the first time since he'd realized he was starting to look at him _differently_ , Dick realized that Damian would never _ever_ hold it against him. He'd never treat him any differently and _that_ was really all that mattered. 

Turning his head, he pressed a gentle kiss to Damian's injured wrist, whispering a quiet, "Sleep well," into the stillness of the room.

He could feel Damian's smile against his shoulder, feel his returned sentiment in the way his body shifted ever so slightly against him, and when Dick closed his eyes, he knew _this_ was as close to perfect as he could have ever asked for.


End file.
